


I'm Not Like Most People

by 221blackandwhitestripes



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Character Study, Edward Nygma's Brain, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221blackandwhitestripes/pseuds/221blackandwhitestripes
Summary: This is a really short thing I wrote ages ago as I was working through Ed's character in my mind and I realized I'd never posted it, which makes sense because it's in first-person and, again, very, very short.Still, I quite like it, so feel free to read it :)(Why else would I put it here?)





	I'm Not Like Most People

**Author's Note:**

> What a says in the summary basically.

I’m not like most people. They know it too. I’m not like most people because I don’t lie when they ask me. I don’t tell them that I lost control, that seeing them together filled me with broiling rage until it all crashed over me and I blacked out. I don’t tell them that the next thing I knew, my hands were covered in blood and two lifeless bodies were just lying there. I don’t tell them that it’s not my fault.

Most people are stupid enough not to care whether or not their intelligence is noticed. Or perhaps they’re wise enough to deny their masterpieces and push away their claim to fame. Me, I’m more logical, a genius in dark colours. I reign over others even now, locked in a cage of someone else’s design. I don’t choose to hide the beauty in my mind; the world deserves to know how it is seen. It deserves the jagged edges of a torn-open soup-can on a countertop, deserves the dark red blood seeping into the carpet, deserves wicked smiles and high-pitched screams, deserves the chance to look in the mirror and see itself as it truly is.

They tell me to stop talking, that I’m bothering the others, the crazies and weirdos who run amok in this place. I shout at them that I don’t belong here, that I’m nothing like them. Nobody listens.

I resolve to write it all down, but I’ve no pen and paper, so I scrape my knuckles against the rough concrete and blood becomes my ink. My penmanship is impeccable, the finest in this black water city. I won’t let my lack of tools stop me from creating masterpieces as I tell my story. I tell the walls the way his smile twisted, how her body looked like a storm in October, how his eyes burned with life as blood dripped from his knife. 

_I didn’t kill her,_ I write, certain of this only. _I didn’t kill her._

It isn’t she who visits my dreams, rather, it is him. Strangers, we are, his eyes catching on me with indifference and a lack of recognition.

“It’s you,” I say, words tumbling as they do in dreams. “I know you, I miss you, but please, don’t ever come back.”

He smiles and says, “If you know me, then you know you’re standing too close.”

I laugh because we’re still strangers but he still remembers that. He’d promised never to forget, that he never _could_ forget. Death holds his body hostage, but his mind is free, conjured within my own. I wake and I weep because this must be wrong, he is not the man I love. Not after what he has done. But she escapes me, the girl with the lifeless limbs, until all her names are just whispers and echoes, misshapen and meaningless. I don’t know her anymore. She is blurred and dark. He is sharpened like a knife, glinting with the light that pours from my tiny window.

I let him in, because he has been in me all along.

I wonder if he was real, because it doesn’t seem so. He was dancing firelight after my near-death, he is a flock of ravens trapped in his hair, he is impossible, impossible, but there was truth to him. Truth when he said, “You need me.” Truth when he said, “You love me.”

But lies when he said, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I typically write when I'm not writing for fandom, so it probably feels off, but it makes sense to me :) I hope you liked it :)


End file.
